Happy Anniversary
by Lady Dudley
Summary: Sherlock is determined that his first anniversary with Molly will be perfect, unfortunately, things don't go as planned - Established Sherlolly


**A/N: For Meg who's having a bit of a bad time at the moment. This is based on the _Fraiser_ episode 'The Proposal,' but with some changes. Some of the dialogue is also from that episode. Hope you enjoy :)**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

_**Happy Anniversary**_

Sherlock checked on his preparations one last time, Molly would be there any minute and he wanted everything to be perfect.

Personally he thought the whole idea of celebrating their first anniversary to be completely absurd, especially considering how long they had known each other but John had insisted it was an important milestone.

Besides, if nothing else, Sherlock Holmes was a perfectionist and if he was going to do this, he was going to do it _right_.

Satisfied that everything was in place, Sherlock checked his watch and smiled as someone knocked on the door at the same moment. _Perfect timing_, he complimented her mentally as he headed to door, giving the room one last cursory check as he did so.

So far so good.

He opened the door and blinked, Molly looked awful.

"Are you all right?" he asked, concerned as she practically fell through the door.

He moved as though to catch her but she swatted him away as she righted herself, "Don't touch me," she ordered. "I've got the flu," she added miserably as she entered the flat.

"Oh," he said, hoping he didn't sound too disappointed as he shut to door behind her. "Come and sit down until you're ready to eat," he suggested, steering her towards the couch.

"I can't eat," Molly said as she flopped dejectedly onto the couch, clutching a tissue box, "I need my mouth to breathe." She paused to blow her nose, "I hope you didn't go to any trouble," she added, looking at him blearily.

"No," he assured her, pushing aside the memory of the hours of preparation (which had even included cookery lessons with Mrs. Hudson) that he'd put into the evening. He squeezed her hand, "I'll get you a cup of tea," he told her as he stood up, "that will make you feel better," he added, hoping to be able to salvage something from the evening.

Molly groaned and shook her head, "All I want to do is stuff tissues up my nose, collapse on the couch and pray for death," she mumbled, lying down and snuggling into one of the cushions.

For a brief moment, Sherlock froze.

He thought he'd anticipated all the things that could have gone wrong that evening, it had never occurred to him that the evening might not happen at all.

Something of what he was feeling must have shown in his face as she looked up at him, "I'm sorry," she said softly.

The note of regret in her voice snapped him from his reverie, "It's all right," he said soothingly, bending to kiss her forehead. "I'll get you some soup," he gave her a small smile as he brushed a lock of hair off her face, "that's what people do isn't it?"

Her answering giggle turned into a coughing fit and he frowned, "Are you sure you're comfortable on the couch?"

She nodded, "I'm fine."

He didn't look convinced but he said nothing as he straightened and disappeared briefly. "I'm sorry I ruined our evening," she added as he returned, blanket in hand.

"You did nothing of the sort," he said firmly, unfolding the blanket.

She smiled up at him as he tucked her in, "I don't know what I did to deserve you."

Sherlock rolled his eyes, "I got the better end of this deal," he informed her, taking a seat on the coffee table.

She raised an eyebrow, "Really? Look at me, nose running, hair a mess," she gave him a self-deprecating smile, "I must look a real fright," she added, reaching for another tissue.

"Impossible," he scoffed.

Molly attempted a derisive snort, but it came out as a sneeze.

"I'll get you that soup," Sherlock said, standing up.

Molly caught his hand, pulling him back, "Stay with me?" she asked, looking up at him pleadingly. "Please?" she added as he hesitated.

She looked so miserable that he instantly relented and sat down in the space she made on the couch for him. He smiled a little as she rested her head in his lap, "Mm, that's better," she mumbled contentedly, closing her eyes.

He stroked her hair absently, watching as her breathing evened out and she relaxed.

"Molly?"

"Hmm?"

"Happy Anniversary."

She smiled drowsily, "Happy Anniversary."


End file.
